


The Truth Lies In The Darkness

by ashtraythief



Series: Underneath 'verse [4]
Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternative Universe - FBI, M/M, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 14:58:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2432954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashtraythief/pseuds/ashtraythief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonathan Ackles gets a late night visit from his brother</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Truth Lies In The Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a timestamp for [Underneath It All](http://ashtraythief.livejournal.com/39605.html). Happens approximately 8 months after the main story.
> 
> ETA: Edited as of 12/17/2017  
> Many, many thanks to Ilikaicalie for betaing this monster!

 

  


The room was dark and silent. He didn’t understand why he was awake, his alarm wasn’t blaring, the babyphone was quiet, and, next to him, her long dark hair a tangled mess on the pillows, Tamara was sleeping peacefully.

 

He was just about to fall back asleep when he heard Leia making a noise over the babyphone, an unintelligible giggle slowly morphing into the beginning of a displeased cry before a deep voice soothed her.

 

Jonathan was upright before he’d fully realized what was happening. He grabbed the gun out of the nightstand—a Magnum, Jensen had given it to him, said a revolver was easier to operate under stress and it was small enough for Tamara to handle—and nudged Tamara.

 

“Honey, wake up, someone’s in the house. Call 911.” Quietly he made his way to the nursery as fast as he could, heart beating out of his chest.

 

The door was ajar and a tall man was standing there, holding his baby.

 

Jonathan saw red.

 

“I don’t know who you are, fucker, but unless you want a bullet in your head, you will put her down, right now.”

 

The stranger raised one arm slowly. “Don’t shoot, man, it’s me.”

 

It took him a second to place the voice, then—“Jensen?”

 

At that moment, the room lit up, Tamara standing in the doorway looking back and forth between Jonathan and Jensen, phone in hand.

 

“Jensen? What are you—oh my god, Jonathan what are you doing with that gun?”

 

“I thought someone broke in!”

 

“You can’t bring a gun into our baby’s room. What the hell were you thinking?” Tamara’s voice was shaking. She really disliked guns, and her eyes darted nervously between the gun and Leia.

 

Jonathan hurriedly put the gun down but Tamara’s horrified face when he placed it on the changing table made him reconsider. “I’m gonna put that away. Jensen, you’re gonna stay?”

 

His brother nodded. “Yeah, I will.”

 

Jonathan heard Tamara tell someone that it was a misunderstanding, probably the police, before he was out of reach in their bedroom, locking the gun away. Of course he’d never fire that weapon with his baby in the room, but he’d needed to do something.

 

When he walked back into Leia’s nursery, Jensen and Tamara were standing close together, heads bowed over Leia and cooing at the baby.

 

“She’s perfect,” Jensen said.

 

“Yeah, she is,” Tamara said with that wonder in her voice like she still couldn’t believe what she and Jonathan had created. And Jonathan understood that, he still wondered himself.

 

Jensen looked up then, straight at Jonathan. Of course. It was impossible to sneak up on Jensen. Always had been. It had driven him nuts when they were kids. As the older brother he’d felt it was his duty to tease his kid brother, but Jensen had made it extremely difficult.

 

“You did good, man,” Jensen said with a smile. “Congrats.”

 

He looked happy, but his face was tired, lines around his eyes deeper and there was a slump in his shoulders.

 

“You want a beer?” Jonathan asked.

 

Jensen tended to play it close to the vest, but sometimes, late at night, with a good beer and silence around him, he’d tell Jonathan some of the stuff that was going on. Jensen had been on assignment for over a year now, and as far as Jonathan knew he’d only called their parents twice, hadn’t come to visit once. Whatever was going on, it was bad.

 

Jensen nodded. “She fell asleep again.” He hesitated. “Can I take her down with us?”

 

Tamara didn’t blink, just patted his arm. “Of course. Just remember to support her head.” Her sister was in the army, two tours in Iraq and she understood probably better than Jonathan what Jensen was going through.

 

Jonathan and Jensen quietly walked down into the kitchen and Jonathan pulled two beers out of the fridge. He had an early morning the next day, but his little brother was sitting in his kitchen, looking like shit, so he didn’t really care.

 

Jensen sat down at the table, mindful of keeping Leia stable, and Jonathan thought it was a good look on him.

 

“I know you never considered it, but I still think you’d make a good dad.”

 

Jensen looked startled, but took the bottle Jonathan offered him. “I’ll make an awesome uncle. When I’m around. But dad? No Johnny, that’s all you. Although,” he added with a smirk, “I would know better than to name my kid after a Star Wars character.”

 

“Hey,” Jonathan said indignantly. “Leia is a beautiful name and not weird at all.”

 

Jensen smiled down at his niece, “Yeah, it’s a good name. And I bet she’s gonna be just as kick-ass as her namesake.”

 

“Course. You’ll teach her all about it.”

 

Jensen nodded, but his face was dark.

 

With a sigh, Jonathan sat down. “What’s going on, man? You look like shit.”

 

Jensen gave a humorous chuckle. “Don’t say that, my cover depends on my good looks.”

 

Before Jonathan could contemplate what that meant, Jensen clinked their bottles together. “To Leia Ackles. Tell me about her?”

 

So Jonathan did. He told Jensen about the pregnancy, how Tamara had gotten lucky, being spared morning sickness and mood swings, how Jonathan had become an expert in foot rubs in the last trimester and how he’d almost fainted in the delivery room. He talked about sleepless nights, the complexity of changing diapers, and how his whole world had realigned itself.

 

“Tamara wants to go back to work at some point and I want to spend more time with Leia, so I’ll be taking a couple of months off as soon as she doesn't nurse anymore.”

 

Jensen grinned. “Look at you, all modern dad.”

 

Jonathan shrugged his shoulders. “I want to be a good father. And I don’t want to miss out on anything, you know.”

 

Jensen nodded.

 

Their beers were empty and Jonathan got up to get two more.

 

“Cathy misses you like crazy. She’s deciding which college to go to and she really wants your advice. Mom never says anything, you know her, but she worries.”

 

“She always does,” Jensen said and if he tried to sound nonchalant, he failed miserably.

 

“What’s going on, Jensen?”

 

Jensen looked up, a deprecating smile on his lips. “I screwed up. Or, more precisely, I’m screwing up.”

 

Jonathan looked at his brother and couldn’t believe it. Jensen was always perfect. He looked perfect, had perfect grades and scores, he was fearless and honorable. Sure, occasionally he would venture off the paved roads onto the beaten paths, he’d swim against the current, but he did all things he attempted with the greatest accomplishment.

 

“You never screw up. Not unless you want to.”

 

Jensen gave him a wry grin, clearly remembering what Jonathan was thinking off. That time he’d taken off in the middle of the night to go jumping off a cliff during the full moon, a local coming of age tradition. Jensen had been thirteen and their parents had been furious. Jensen had seemed appropriately contrite, but Jonathan had seen the glint in his eyes as soon as their parents turned their backs. After, Jensen had been more upfront to their parents about his outdoor adventures, but Jonathan had seen the risky routes his brother didn’t shy away from when they went rock climbing. He knew his little brother never stopped chasing the thrill but he always seemed to have a handle on this so Jonathan didn’t tell their parents. Besides, he was responsible for Jensen and he wasn’t keen on a lecture from their dad of him forgetting that responsibility.

 

“Yeah well, this is different,” Jensen said, voice tired and resigned.

 

Jonathan pondered this for a while, then his thoughts went back to what Jensen had said previously, about how his looks mattered. A cold fist clenched around Jonathan’s stomach. What were those FBI bastards making Jensen do?

 

“Can you tell me?” he asked carefully.

 

Jensen shook his head, then looked down at Leia.

 

“Sometimes it’s just hard, remembering where the lines are. They expect you to get close to people. Most of the times, it’s easy, they’re assholes and monsters and the hard part is not killing them on the spot. But sometimes… sometimes they’re good people, you know? In their own way. And then you have drinks with them, they share their food and their home with you, they listen to you bitch, they take you dancing and play poker with you. They’re your friends. And they mean it. They don’t know you’re pretending, so when they say, _hey man you’re alright_ , or _hey, if anyone gives you trouble you let me know_ , they’re not pretending. They mean it. They really are your friends.”

 

Jensen huffed. “It’s a mindfuck and sometimes it’s just harder to draw the line.”

 

Jonathan nodded. Leia made a snuffling sound and Jensen shifted her to his other shoulder. His henly got dragged along and Jonathan caught a glimpse of a purple bitemark. A hickey. His little brother had a hickey.

 

“Holy shit, did you fall in love?” The question was out before Jonathan could stop himself, but Jensen showing up at his place in the middle of the night was just atypical enough for him to make this atypical assumption.

 

Guilt flashed across Jensen’s features, just like it had done when they’d raided their mom’s christmas cookies stash two days before the holidays.

 

“Holy shit. You’ve never. I mean…” Jonathan trailed off. It wasn’t like Jensen hadn’t dated. But he’d never brought anyone home, had never even introduced Jonathan to anyone, just off-handedly mentioned going on a date now and then. Their parents had always made it clear that they loved Jensen no matter if he would bring home a daughter or a son in law. Even though their father was maybe not the most understanding, he’d never held it against Jensen. And it might have taken their mother a little to wrap her head around it but if Jensen had been home more often, she would have tried to set him up with every eligible gay bachelor she knew.

 

Jensen laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “I wonder what that says about me. That the first time I really fall for someone, it’s the guy I’m trying to get behind bars.”

 

For a long time, they were quiet. Jonathan wasn’t really sure what to say, but this was still Jensen, still his kid brother. Jonathan knew his brother and he knew he was a good man.

 

“Maybe it just means that the world isn’t always black and white. And that we can’t choose who we fall in love with.”

 

And it was true. Jonathan knew how criminal families and organizations operated, he’ put enough members behind bars in court. In their own way, they could be loving, loyal and supportive. They created tight-knit communities who looked out for their own.

 

Jonathan had helped broker the occasional deal, immunity for information, and it wasn’t all bad. Not that it didn’t mean that they should all go to jail. But he could see how, after a year, it might be easy to forget.

 

Jensen nodded slowly.

 

“What are you gonna do?” Jonathan asked.

 

Jensen finished his beer. “Keep going. It’s not like I have a choice here.”

 

“Can’t you get out? Tell them, you can’t do it, get someone else?” It wouldn’t be the first time an undercover agent got too close. Jonathan just never would have thought it would happen to his brother. He wondered if the romantic relationship had been a natural development or part of the plan. Jonathon’s stomach churned at the thought but he wouldn’t put it past the FBI.

 

Jensen shook his head. “I can’t.”

 

Jonathan wasn’t sure if that meant Jensen couldn’t abort the mission or Jensen couldn’t leave the guy he’d fallen in love with, and he couldn’t ask. He wasn’T sure he could bear to hear the answer.

 

“Can I crash on your couch?” Jensen asked. “I wanna stop by mom and dad tomorrow, but I need a place to sleep.”

 

“Is it safe?” Jonathan asked and he asked for Jensen as much as for his own family.

 

Tiredly, Jensen nodded. “I was careful. And he trusts me.”

 

Jonathan was itching to ask who this guy was who had done such a number on Jensen, but he knew he wouldn’t get any answers.

 

“Let me get you some blankets. And I can take the little munchkin.”

 

For a moment, Jensen's face turned soft when he looked down at his niece. Then he looked up, same old tired expression and nodded.

 

“Thanks Johnny.”

 

“Anytime.”

  


When Jensen left the next morning, he didn’t look well rested, exactly, but a little more relaxed in the shoulders.

 

“Thanks for letting me crash,” he said again.

 

Jonathan pulled him into a hug. “Always.”

 

“You gotta promise me one thing,” Jenne said when he pulled back.”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Do not, under any circumstances try to find out what I’m doing.”

 

“Jensen, I would never—” Jonathan started but Jensen cut him off with a harsh look.

 

“No matter what you see or might here, you do not know me,” Jensen said, and his voice was low and hard. All business.

 

Jonathan raised his eyebrows. “You planning on making the news?”

 

“I hope not,” Jensen said, “but this is big. So if you hear anything, you know nothing. And you gotta promise me you won't dig into it. No matter what you hear about me, you can’t start poking around or I'm dead.”

 

Jonathan nodded. “Of course. But Jensen, you know I would never do that.”

 

Jensen gave him the same self-deprecating smile he’d given him last night when he’d talked about falling enough. “I know. Just, I need to make sure on this one.”

 

“Okay. Take care of yourself, brother.”

 

Jensen nodded and squeezed his arm, then he made his way to his rental. It was only then that Jonathan noticed the gun tucked into the back of the waistband of his brother’s jeans.

  
  
  
  



End file.
